


Moonlight Mile

by ahopper84



Series: Moonlight Mile [2]
Category: Hanson (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2018-12-13 19:51:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11767146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahopper84/pseuds/ahopper84
Summary: Hanson the band is no more; Taylor walked away from that life a long time ago, after having a hand in its destruction. But when Zac suddenly reappears in his life, looking to reconnect, maybe Taylor can learn to forgive himself, and find that some things happen for a reason.





	1. 1

I have to wipe my eyes as I watch the procession of students file out of the auditorium, cheering and waving to their friends and family. I always get a little emotional about graduation; you’d think I’d be used to it after ten years, but I’ve always been the sentimental type. Anyway, it’s normal enough for a teacher, who watches teens grow up and then sets them loose into the world. But it’s more than that. my students have bright futures ahead of them, full of opportunity and potential; meanwhile I feel like I’m stuck in place, already as far as I can ever hope to go.

But I try not to focus on that as I shake hands and exchange hugs. Some of my favorite students (because there are always favorites, it’s just inevitable) promise to keep in touch; I smile and nod, and think of my brothers, until the smiles start feel a little forced. I make the last rounds, satisfied I’ve said all the necessary goodbyes, and head to my car. 

There’s someone sitting on my trunk, I can see long before I reach that end of the parking lot. It doesn’t look like any of my students; it doesn’t look like a student at all, I realize as I walk closer. The long brown hair whipping around in the wind makes me think it’s a female at first, but then he turns his head, and I can clearly see masculine features. Annoyance flares up; the dark sunglasses he wears make him difficult to identify, but he sees me coming, and pulls them off, and I stop.

It’s Zac.

He grins wide and hops to the ground as I close the distance, pulling me into a tight hug before I can even speak. I don’t know if I _can_ speak, only staring at him for a moment before he pulls me into a second embrace.

“Zac? What are you- It’s good to see you.” And it is good, but completely unexpected. 

“Great to see you too, man. Sorry I missed the ceremony, but I probably needed a ticket anyway, huh?” 

I take a second to look him over; he’s grown a lot over the years, and even since the last picture of him I saw. His hair is longer than I remember, coming almost past his shoulders, and there’s the faintest outline of stubble on his chin, in the general shape of a goatee and mustache. He’s lost weight, too, or at least been working out, the sleeves of his t-shirt stretched tight around his arms.

“Um, yeah. You look… good.”

“Yeah?” Zac asks, and I think I see his cheeks turn a shade of pink. “So do you. Growing this out?” he adds, ruffling my hair with his hand.

“Eh, just been too busy to have it cut,” I shrug. “So… don’t take this the wrong way, but… what are you doing here?”

Zac stares at the ground for a second, thumbs in his pockets. I wonder why he’s so quiet suddenly. His hair hides his face, and I want to brush it aside, but he looks up before I can move.

“missed you,” he says softly, as if he’s embarrassed about it. There’s something in his tone, though, that hits me like a punch to the gut. I feel guilty suddenly, for not keeping in better touch, even though I know I wasn’t the only one to blame.

“I missed you too.” And I did. I don’t think about it very often, but when I do, Zac is always who comes to mind first. He and I have… had been best friends since we were little, completely inseparable. Becoming famous only made us cling to each other even tighter, maybe more than either of us to our oldest brother. We never understood why, but we never questioned it, either. We just… were.

“So, I was thinking,” he starts, staring at the ground again and kicking at a pebble. “You’ve got the summer off, right?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” I tell him, my head tilting.

“Well, I was thinking of going on a road trip. Take some time to clear my head, ya know? And I thought… Well, you used to love being on the road, so I just thought…” His cheeks are definitely red now, and I hate to admit it, but it’s not a bad look for him. He gives me a hopeful smile, and I feel a twinge in my chest.

“You want me to go on a road trip with you?” I ask, and he nods, biting his lip. It’s an out of the blue request, but when I think about it, I can’t really see a downside. I know I could use a vacation, and it’d be great to catch up with Zac. And there has to be more reason than a whim for his sudden visit, I just know it. 

“Yeah, sure. Sounds like fun.” 

He looks up at me, surprised, as if he expected me to say no. Then he grins wide, and for a moment he looks like a kid again, and it feels good, but it hurts a little, too. He pulls me into another hug, which I return. I really have missed him. I don’t want to be the first to pull away; apparently, neither does he, because a minute goes by, and then another, and we’re just standing there holding each other. But eventually he does pull back, slowly, almost reluctantly. 

His cheeks are red again. I have a feeling mine are, too.

“So when do we leave?” I ask, shifting from one foot to the other. He leans back against my car with an easy grin I was never able to forget.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he answers, gesturing to the jeep parked next to my suburban. 

“I… I’ll need to pack, but other than that…” I think hard, making sure I’m not forgetting anything, but as far as I know I’m a free man. 

“Hit the road in the morning, then?” He pushes off my car and starts backing towards his own. “I’ll follow you to your house. Or, I could get a room somewhere,” he adds, his brow furrowing.

“No, it’s fine. I’m not gonna make you shell out money for a hotel, of course you’re welcome at my place.” 

He nods once, pausing, and for a second I wonder if he wants to hug me again; I don’t think I’d mind if he did. But he gets in his car, and I get in mine, and we both start our engines. I almost wish he wasn’t waiting for me to lead the way, because this is all happening so fast. I feel like I’ve had the wind knocked out of me, and I’m still trying to catch my breath. It isn’t that I don’t want this; I definitely do, for a million reasons. It’s just… I’m scared.

I think about it as I pull out of the parking lot and head for home, keeping Zac in my rearview mirror. I’m scared of how much we’ve grown apart, scared that nothing will be the same, that we won’t be able to pick up where we left off. And not that it’s Zac’s fault, but all the emotions I’d felt back when we split up, all the fear and anger and frustration, are bubbling up to the surface, hanging over my head like a ghost. 

I don’t like to think about that time, the darkest period in a life of shadows. To say I didn’t cope with the stress very well would be an understatement. The parties, the alcohol… the drugs… The arguments I had with my brothers, full-blown fights with bloody noses and black eyes. The days we spent ‘cooling off’. The words that left scars I didn’t think would ever heal; the ones that never did. Not all my fault, but I didn’t help, and probably… no, definitely made things worse.

And Zac… Zac, who was still a teenager. Who should have been worried about dating and getting his license, not fighting about the creative castration and whether his brother needs to spend a weekend in rehab. Zac who shouldn’t have had to deal with any of it, who probably had plenty on his own mind, but was forced to shelve it for the good of the band.

The road is just starting to blur as I pull into my driveway. I quickly wipe my eyes, try to compose myself and will my breath to stop catching. I check my reflection in the mirror, thankful my eyes don’t look like they’ll give away my emotional outburst. Zac is here now, and he wants us to spend time together, and that means we’re okay.

“It’s not much,” I say as I lead Zac inside. It really isn’t anything fancy; I could have gotten a bigger house, on more land, with more amenities. But I don’t need it. I have a place to sleep, a place to cook, a place to work; I even have a pool, although I rarely use it. A baby grand sits in the living room, and there’s a keyboard in my office, but those are my only instruments not in storage. 

“It’s great,” Zac says, grinning and looking around. I can’t remember what kind of place he has in… memphis? I’m not sure, but that sounds familiar.

“Are you hungry? I can cook something, or we can order pizza.”

“Whatever you want.” Zac shrugs, sitting at the piano. He touches the keys gingerly, as if afraid to break them.

“Do you still play?” I ask quietly; I’m not sure how touchy the subject is for him, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Not really. I kept a kit set up in my apartment for a while, but I needed the space for a while, and then I just… didn’t see much point in taking it back out.” He presses down on a key, the note ringing between us, a little off-key. “Needs tuning.”

“Yeah, I… just haven’t gotten around to it, I guess.” To be honest I haven’t sat at those keys in months; it’s a crime not to take care of such an expensive instrument, I know, but to me it’s almost like a relic from a lost age. I walk over, standing next to Zac, and touch a different key. He smiles up at me, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

“You were always better than me anyway,” he says, and I want to protest, to tell him I was always the weakest link, but there’s something in the way he’s looking at me, so intense, so… apologetic. I get the feeling he’s talking about more than just musical ability. And he’s even more wrong there.

“Zac… no.” I sit next to him on the bench; he scoots over, but there’s not much room, and we’re hip to hip, but I don’t care. “Zac, you’re… you were…” I take a deep breath and try again. “I was the one who fucked up. I should have been more careful, I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have given up on us.” I look at him, hoping he can read all the different meanings behind my words.

“I shouldn’t have given up on us,” I say again, quieter. He holds my gaze for a minute, then looks down. His hair hangs in front of his face again, but he reaches up and tucks some of it behind his ear. When he looks up at me again, there’s a hint of a smile on his lips, and his eyes have a bit more spark to them.

“I missed us,” he says softly. His cheeks are red again, and this time I’m okay with admitting I kind of like it. 

“I missed us, too.”


	2. Chapter 2

My alarm goes off at five, and for a few minutes I can’t remember why. My initial thought is school, but I remember that graduation was yesterday. I lay in bed, staring bleary-eyed at the clock, as if it can give me the answer. But then I hear the faint sound of snoring coming from the living room, and I smile. Zac. Zac is here, and we’re leaving for our big road trip.

I sit up slowly, stretching, listening to all the pops and cracks in my back and neck. I’m getting old, and I hate it, but that’s life. I get out of bed and throw on my jeans, then pad out to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. Zac doesn’t drink it, but I can barely function until I have some caffeine in my system. Once it’s brewing, I head out to the living room to wake up my brother.

He looks so peaceful; I crouch down, taking my time looking at him. His face isn’t as full as it used to be, but his jaw is stronger, more defined. His long lashes flutter against his cheeks; his freckles stand out more now, still faint but more apparent than they once were. The hair that surrounds his full lips somehow makes them seem even fuller, the corners pulled in the hint of a smile. 

He opens his eyes, and I feel my own cheeks turn red. He blushes, too, then turns his whole body away and pulls the blanket over his head. I’m not sure what he has to be embarrassed about; I was the one being a bit of a creep.

“Go ‘way,” he whines. His voice is muffled by the blanket, but I can practically hear him grinning.

“C’mon, Zac,” I laugh, pulling his shield away. “You said five, and that was…” I pause and glance at the clock; it’s later than I thought, and I wonder how long I sat there, staring at my sleeping brother. “Almost five thirty,” I finish, looking back at him. He glares at me with one eye open, but groans and sits up anyway.

“At least we got your bags in the car last night.”

“Want me to make breakfast?” I ask as I follow him into the kitchen and pour myself a cup of coffee.

“Nah, we’ll just grab something on the road. I wanna fuel up one more time anyway, start with a full tank.” He opens the fridge and gets out the orange juice, drinking straight from the bottle; he catches me watching and gives me a sheepish grin, but I don’t really mind.

“Sounds good.” I smile and take another sip of my coffee. I look out the window; it’s still dark outside, the moon hanging low on the horizon. “So where are we headed, anyway?”

“Dunno,” Zac answers with a shrug, and I look at him curiously. “Pick a direction; we’ll drive until we gotta start heading back, then turn around and go a different way than we came.”

I stare at him for a moment, then laugh. It’s a little crazy, and totally Zac. He was always the spontaneous one, the one coming up with crazy ideas for pranks, or just things to do when we were bored on the road or in the studio. I wish I’d said yes to more of those ideas. I shake my head to fight off yet another round of regretful thoughts.

“I always wanted to check out Route 66,” I tell him. “All the little stops that used to be big before they built the freeways, you know?”

“Yeah, that sounds cool.” Zac grins, nodding. “We can take that all the way up to Chicago.”

“I heard the Hard Rock there is really good, we should check it out.”

“Didn’t we do a show there once?” Zac furrows his brow and bites his lip. “No, that was the House of Blues, huh?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Seems like forever ago,” Zac says, his eyes unfocused. I wonder what he’s thinking about, if he’s remembering the good times or the not-so-good. I hope it isn’t the latter, but the way he sighs, slowly and heavily, makes me doubtful. 

“Yeah…” I don’t know what else to say, what to do to make things right. This trip will help though, I think. I step closer and put a hand on his shoulder; he eyes me, as if he doesn’t trust me, and it sends a sharp pain through my chest.

“Zac, I... “ I lick my lips, trying to find words, but come up empty. “I’m glad you’re here,” I say finally; it feels like trying to put a band-aid on a stab wound, but it’s all I have. But Zac smiles up at me anyway, closes his eyes and leans his head on me, covers my hand with his own.

“Me too.” 

We stand like that for a moment, and it feels nice. It feels nice to have someone lean on me, to feel another human’s touch, however innocent; it’s been awhile, a long while. And even though it’s my brother, a part of me clings to this moment of even slight intimacy. But I pull away; it was bad enough he caught me watching him sleep, and he doesn’t need to know how starved for company I really am. But maybe it’s not just me; he tries to hide it, but I see the momentary pout when I step back.

“Alright, well let me just get a shirt on and we’ll hit the road.”

“Cool.” Zac grins at me and nods; I set my cup in the sink and head to my bedroom to finish getting dressed. I hear him washing my cup for me, and I smile. A few minutes later I do a last check of the house, running down the list of essentials--wallet, cellphone, keys--in my head.

“Okay, let’s roll.” 

\------

We’ve been on the road for a couple hours now; the sun is fully over the horizon now, high enough to not be right in our eyes. The cd we had on stopped about thirty miles ago, but neither one of us has moved to restart it or put in another. We’ve gone quiet, but it’s a comfortable silence. Every now and then we glance at each other and smile.

“Thanks again,” Zac says after a while. “For coming with me. I didn’t know if you’d be able to… or if you’d want to.” 

“Zac…” I bite my lip; of course he would think that. How long has it been since we’ve talked? I haven’t exactly reached out to him; granted, it goes both ways, but still. “I know I haven’t really been there, and… and I’m sorry. I can’t… I don’t really have a good excuse. Guess I’m just a shitty brother,” I added, half to myself. It was true, after all.

“No, Tay. I get it, really. You’ve got your own life here, you don’t need me getting in the way.”

“That’s no excuse. I should have written, called. I should’ve been better.” I let out a sigh and run a hand through my hair; the scenery passes by, but I barely see it, staring instead at my half-transparent reflection in the window. “You deserved better.” 

“So did you,” Zac says softly. I glance over at him but his eyes are on the road. I get the feeling we’re not talking about the lack of Christmas cards and phone calls anymore. 

“But hey,” he says suddenly, grinning at me. “You’re here now, and I’m here, and we’re gonna have fun on this trip. Right?”

“Right,” I agree, smiling. “So what’ve you been up to, anyway? Still painting?”

“Yeah, there’s a gallery that shows my stuff and handles the sales. It’s not bad; I set my own schedule, and you’d be surprised how much rich old dudes will pay for something, as long as they think it’s ‘deep’.” He laughs and shakes his head; I think he doesn’t give himself enough credit, but then he never did.

“Maybe we can swing by before I have to go home. I’d love one of your pieces.”

Zac laughs at that, and I’m not entirely sure why, but he nods. 

“Yeah, I think we can do that. I’m not taking your money, though.”

“We’ll see,” I say, smiling. “So, you seeing anyone?”

“Oh, um… sort of.” He glances at me without turning his head, and bites his lip. “It’s kind of… complicated.”

“How so?”

“Well…” He clears his throat and glances at me again, and I have a feeling I’ve touched a nerve.

“I’m sorry, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s just a little… hard to explain. Okay, so I have this… friend… who stays with me. And we… well, we’re not exactly _dating_ , but…”

“Gotcha,” I say, blushing a little. “Nothing wrong with that.” 

I almost wish I had a… friend… like that. It isn’t that I don’t get lonely; of course I do, more than I like to think about sometimes. But it’s just not worth it to me, the hassle of dealing with who I used to be. It always comes up, and it’s always either ‘I used to love you’ or ‘I used to hate you’ and neither one is a good basis for a relationship, romantic or otherwise.

“How ‘bout you?”

“Oh, um, no. Nothing like that. I mean, work keeps me pretty busy, so…” It’s a lousy excuse and a bold-faced lie, and I’m not at all surprised that Zac doesn’t look like he believes me.

“So, nothing? Dating? Friends with benefits?”

“Nope. Just enjoying the bachelor life.” I try to laugh it off, but he still looks concerned. Is it really that surprising? I already went through being married once; granted, it was a sham based on a pregnancy I was ‘supposedly’ responsible for, but still. Plus, I may not exactly be ‘famous’ anymore, but I still have a lingering fear that any private relationships I might have won’t stay private for very long.

“I couldn’t do that,” Zac says, shaking his head. “Too much quiet. Leaves too much room for thinking, ya know?” He gives a lopsided grin, but I can see the shadow that passes over his eyes. I know exactly what he means. “But hey, as long as you’re happy.”

“Yeah…” I’m not happy, though. I haven’t been happy in a long time. I’m not exactly _unhappy_ , I just… I’m content, I guess. Nothing exciting going on in my life, but that’s fine with me. I’m good with just existing. At least, that’s what I try to tell myself as I lay in bed at night, staring at the ceiling.

I look at Zac; so much for nothing exciting. But I’m glad he’s here. If anyone can shake me out of my rut, it’s him. I didn’t even really know I needed it, but now that we’re together, I know I do. I want to be happy again, not just settling for the bare minimum. I want to have _fun_ again, to really laugh, to enjoy life instead of just passing from one day to the next.

It’s just a road trip, just a short vacation; but to me it feels like more than that. I want to tell him that, but I don’t know how. But when he smiles at me, with so much warmth and familiarity, I think he knows.

“I really am glad you’re here,” he says, pulling the thoughts from my mind. He always was good at that.

“Me too.”

He reaches down and turns on the radio, finding a classic oldies song we both used to love. We smile at each other again. This trip is exactly what I needed. What we _both_ needed. I guess what it comes down to, is what we really needed… was each other.


	3. Chapter 3

“You coming in?” Zac asks as he kills the engine. I nod and step out of the jeep; my joints pop as I stretch my arms above my head. It’s been awhile since I’ve sat in a car that long, and this one isn’t exactly friendly to folks as long-limbed as me. I follow him into the small convenience store, making a beeline for the coffee. 

“Thirty on pump six,” Zac tells the attendant. He asks for something else, too, but in a lower voice. my curiosity is piqued and I glance over, just in time to see the clerk hand over a pack of rolling papers. my eyes widen, and a knot of worry builds in my stomach. Does he smoke? Does he smoke _pot_? Is that something I should have known? Once again I’m reminded how much time has gone by, and how little I actually know about him.

I finish making my coffee and join him at the counter. He hears me coming and pockets the papers before handing over his credit card.

“Not getting anything?” I ask, not trying to pry, but I hate the way the question comes out.

“Nah, I’m good for now. I figure we’ll stop somewhere for lunch soon enough.”

“Oh… okay.” I shift from one foot to the other, sipping my coffee while we wait for his receipt to print. I can’t tell if he knows I saw the papers, but I decide not to mention it, at least not right now. As I get into the car and wait for Zac to finish pumping the gas, I think about what I witnessed. I’m not bothered by the idea of smoking pot in general, but when it comes to Zac, it worries me. Still, he seems fine. maybe I’m just overreacting, my brotherly instincts kicking in after years of disuse. I make a mental note to ask him about it later, when the time feels right.

A couple hours pass, and the time hasn’t felt even close to right. We’ve stopped at a diner, some family-run place that’s probably been here since the highway was first built. The food is better than I expected, but I’m not focused enough to really enjoy it. There’s a tension between me and Zac that’s been building all day, an uncomfortable silence. I wonder if he’s regretting his decision to invite me.

“So, you like teaching?” he asks, and I smile. 

“Yeah, I really do. So many of these kids, they’re so talented. It feels good to help support that.” I think of my students, especially the ones that I won’t be seeing in the fall.

“At least you’re still doing something with music,” Zac says, a wistful tone to his words. “I tried for a little, but…” he trailed off, shrugging.

“But what?”

“Just didn’t feel right,” he answers, staring down at his empty plate and pushing around a few stray crumbs. He looks up at me through his bangs, and I almost wish I couldn’t see the sadness there, but I do.

“I know what you mean,” I say, nodding, because I do. Why else have I let my own talents effectively go to waste? Nothing felt right about playing without my brothers. Even playing for myself hurt, hence the badly neglected piano gathering dust in my living room.

“But hey, I’ve got my art. It’s nothing major, but it’s still a creative outlet.”

“You were always so good at it, too,” I told him, remembering the little comics and drawings he was always working on. “I’m glad you have something you’re passionate about.”

“And… you do too, right?” he asked, his brow furrowed. “With the teaching?”

I wanted to lie, to gush about how much teaching meant to me, but… I can’t. It pays the bills and keeps me somewhat sane, but any sense of passion deserted me years ago. I shrug and hang my head, staring down at my mostly untouched sandwich. I feel a hand on my arm and look up, and see such sadness in his eyes, such pity. But why should he feel sorry for me? I’m the one that dug my own grave. I steel my expression, try to smile, and shake my head.

“It’s fine, though,” I tell him, hoping my voice sounds more convincing to his ears than it does to my own. “It’s good. I think…” I pause, taking a breath. “I think I had enough passion for a lifetime, before. It feels good to just… be.”

It’s not the whole truth, but it’s not a complete lie, either. He studies me, as if trying to see how much to believe, but in the end he sighs.

“I guess I can understand that. Things got… pretty wild, back then.” He laughs, and his cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink. I feel my own cheeks heating up, and I wonder if there’s any memory in particular he’s thinking of.

“Yeah… they really did.” my mind drifts back, to nights filled to the brim with music, drinking, dancing… Girls, boys, and other intoxicating substances… Things that never should have happened, and things I wish had.

“But… it was fun. We had some good times. Right?” His hand is still on my arm, squeezing gently. And for some reason, the reassuring gesture works, if only a little.

“Right.”

He pulls his hand back, and part of me wishes he hadn’t. I mentally kick myself again for getting so worked up at even the slightest physical contact, especially considering who’s giving it. Am I so pathetic that a hand on my arm makes me want more? 

We sit in mostly comfortable silence as I pick at my lunch. Zac pays the check before I can even offer, and not long after that we're back on the road. We make small talk for a while, nothing of real substance but it fills the empty space. I learn that he still loves classic rock, and has amassed an impressive record collection. I tell him about the dog I watched for a couple months while a friend was out of town, and how I've been considering getting one of my own.

A hundred or so miles later, he flips down his visor and pulls out a cd, then slips it into the player. He shoots me a glance, his lips curling in an uneasy smile. I tilt my head, waiting for the music to start, and wondering just what he’s got up his sleeve. As soon as the first notes flow from the speakers, my jaw drops.

_I don’t feel myself today_  
Just a figure in a big monopoly game  
Struggle is the price you pay  
You get just enough just to give it away  
I’m sinking but I’m floating away  
Throw me a line so I can anchor my pain  
The fabric is about to fray  
The fabric is about to fray 

“Zac… that’s…” I stare at my brother, who is definitely blushing. I listen to my own voice, filtered through the rough recording, and it’s like looking through a rip in time.

“I got a hold of the masters. Not everything, but I copied what I could.” His voice is thick with an emotion I can’t quite place - something like regret, but with a defiant edge. I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding, and look down at my trembling hands. The song plays on, the words like a ghost of a memory.

“Thank you,” I say, and my voice breaks. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, and I look over, confused. Why would he apologize for something I just thanked him for? “I know you probably don’t want to think about… back then. I just thought…” He pauses to chew on his bottom lip. “I’ve just been doing a lot of thinking lately. About what happened.”

“Is that why you wanted to see me?” I ask.

“Partly, I guess. I just wanted to… I don’t know. It’s not like I’m trying to relive the past or anything. I just…” He pauses, catching his lower lip between his teeth again. I’m drawn to the motion, unable to look away, and I don’t know why.

“I missed you,” he says, almost too quiet to hear, but it echoes in my ears as if he’d screamed it. He said it before, when he showed up at the high school yesterday, but today it carries a different weight. He says it as if it’s supposed to explain everything, and part of me feels like it does, but in a way that’s just out of my mental grasp. The picture is there, but I can’t make sense of it.

The song changes, and this time it’s Zac’s voice I hear, a little higher, a little rougher. I look up at him and he looks back, his cheeks red, but he’s grinning. He turns to face the road again, drumming on the steering wheel and singing words I haven’t heard in over a decade. I turn the volume up and sing along with my brother, past and present. I know we’re far from finished, but I’m relieved that the tension between us has dissipated, for now at least.


	4. Chapter 4

“Do you wanna go swimming?” Zac asks as he unlocks the door to our motel room. The sun’s just starting to set over Joplin, Missouri. Normally a two hour drive, it’s taken us all day to get this far, between stopping for gas and food, and the winding path of the mother road. We almost lost our way once already thanks to outdated signs. But we had fun, listening to our old demos and searching for landmarks long abandoned. I feel like there’s a correlation there somewhere.

“Does this place have a pool?”

“Yep, behind this row of rooms. I asked when I was getting our keys.” Zac sets his duffel bag at the floor of one bed, and I do the same with my suitcase. “You did pack your swim trunks, right?”

“Pretty sure I did, yeah.” I open my suitcase, and after some rustling I find the navy blue shorts. “Got ‘em.” When I turn around, Zac is already stripping his shirt off. I look away quickly; it’s not that I’m embarrassed, but I haven’t seen him shirtless since he was fourteen. I can still see his reflection in the mirror over the dresser, but his back is turned to me. 

He’s not all that big, but he’s obviously in good shape. He was always been a bit stocky, when we were teens, especially compared to my lanky frame, but now his body is solid, muscular arms and shoulders leading down to an only slightly softer midsection. I close my eyes and turn away as he hooks his thumbs into the waist of his jeans and begins to tug down.

“You gonna just stand there, or are you gonna get changed?” he asks, and I look up. Thankfully he’s dressed, his black swim shorts sitting low on his hips.

“Oh, um… yeah. I just gotta…” I head into the bathroom and close the door behind me.

“Well hurry up,” he calls through the door. “And grab the towels, I kinda forgot to pack any.”

“Sure.” I lean against the wall and take a deep breath. I really need to get it together. Sure, I’ve been a little pent-up lately, but I was just staring at Zac, my brother, and… and thinking about how hot he is. I shake my head and start to change. It’s nothing, it’s just my sexually frustrated mind being weird. It’s not like I’m actually attracted to Zac… that’d be wrong…

I grab the two towels hanging on the bar and exit the bathroom; Zac’s sitting on one of the beds, my bed actually, but he stands and grins. His smile is just as bright as it ever was, something I’ve noticed countless times in the last twenty-four hours. I have a feeling mine’s dimmed over the years.

“Cannonball!” Zac yells as soon as we reach the pool. He gets a running start and jumps into the water; luckily there’s nobody else here. I laugh and set our things down on a lawn chair, then walk to the edge. Zac surfaces a minute later, shaking his head and flinging drops of water all around him. 

“How is it?”

“A little chilly,” he says, laughing and swimming up to me. “Why don’t you find out?” Before I can react he reaches up and grabs me by the wrist, yanking me down. I have just enough time to draw half a breath before my body hits the cool water, but the impact makes my head dizzy. I scramble to the surface and hear laughter through water-logged ears. I honestly should’ve seen that coming, I think to myself.

“Thanks for that,” I snap at him, splashing in his direction, but he ducks underwater. I try to watch his shadow, but the area is dimly lit, and I quickly lose sight of him. I hear him come up behind me and I jump, but he’s just floating on his back, staring up at the sky. I take a breath, relieved that he’s leaving me alone for now. I dunk my head again, coming up face-first to smooth out my hair, then start a slow lap of the pool.

“This is nice,” Zac says, and I nod, coming to a stop next to him.

“Yeah… you can really see the stars out here.” Even though we’re not that far from the main part of the city, there isn’t much light pollution, and I can clearly make out a few constellations.

“I don’t get views like this back home.”

“No?” I tilt my head at him, curious. For a moment he looks almost sad as he shakes his head.

“Remember our old treehouse? We used to sleep out there and pretend we were stranded on an island, like in that old book mom made us read?”

“Yeah… I remember.” I honestly haven’t thought about it in years, but as soon as he mentioned it, it all came back. Our dad had built it for all the kids, but Zac and I were the ones that used it the most. During the spring before our first album got released, we spent practically every night out there, talking about how things would be different once we were famous.

“I heard the people that bought the property tore it down.”

“Mhm. There’s another house there now, I think.”

“Damn. I really would’ve liked to go back, just once. Just for old time’s sake, you know?” He looks at me and there’s such a deep longing in his eyes. I wish I knew what to say to fix it, but I know there’s nothing I can say. There is no going back, at least not to our childhood home. Is the same true for us? Can we ever return to how things were before? I hope so.

Zac shakes his head and swims away, doing a few backflips and handstands. At least some things never change, I think with a smile. 

We stay out for a little while, until we decide to order a pizza. I insist on paying, but as he’s calling in our order, I overhear him giving his credit card information. I sigh and shake my head; apparently his stubbornness hasn’t changed either.

“Okay, should be here in about twenty minutes,” he says, sitting on his bed. We’ve gotten out of our swim trunks, but he hasn’t bothered with a shirt. I have to stop myself from staring more than once; he’s so different, so mature now, and I can’t help mentally cataloging the ways he’s grown. 

“So,” he says with a sheepish grin. “There’s probably a better way to bring this up, but… do you wanna smoke?” 

I stare at him for a second, remembering the rolling papers. 

“You, um… you mean weed, right?” I don’t like how out of touch I sound, or the way Zac’s smile falls. “I’m not judging you or anything. I just… I didn’t think you…”

“It helps calm me down,” he says with a shrug. “Not that I’m stressed out or anything, it’s just… It’s like having a drink. It’s just fun to do sometimes, you know? You don’t have to, and I won’t if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“No, it’s fine. I… I just haven’t smoked in a really long time. But, yeah. Yeah, we can smoke.”

“Yeah?” Zac grins so wide it almost makes _my_ cheeks sore. “Okay, cool. I’ll roll us a joint. Wanna pick out a movie or something?”

“Sure.” I sit back on my bed and grab the remote, flipping to the pay-per-view menu. I watch out of the corner of my eye as Zac rolls a joint; his fingers move so quickly, I have to wonder how long he’s been doing this. Was it someone we knew that introduced him to it? It seems likely, considering the crowd we were around when we were a band. I feel a pang of guilt, irrational as it might be, for not sheltering him. Just another failing as an older brother, I think with a sigh.

“What’s up?” Zac looks up at me, his tongue darting out to lick the paper, and for a moment I forget my thoughts.

“Oh, um… nothing. Just wondering where you learned to do that.”

“I don’t remember who it was,” he answers with a shrug. The way he looks up at me through his lashes tells a different story, though. 

“But was it… back then?” I ask. He stares for a moment, then nods. I let out a breath and shake my head.

“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong. It’s not your fault. I actually…” He pauses, and looks down to lick the paper of a second joint. “I started smoking before I knew you did.”

Something sparks in my mind, a flash of a memory. A fight with Isaac, one of dozens, but I remember him accusing me of setting a bad example. It’s a small consolation that he was wrong about one thing, at least, but it’s a consolation nonetheless. I actually let out a soft laugh at that, and Zac looks up again.

“Isaac… he used to love telling me I was a shitty role model.”

“Yeah well that’s just ‘cuz he’s always had a stick up his ass,” Zac says, his joking tone laced with a hint of real venom. “I swear his favorite pastime was talking shit about everyone else.”

“He was right, though. Just maybe not about the smoking.”

“Bullshit! Tay, he was a total ass. The shit he used to say about-” He stops himself suddenly and looks away, but I know what he was going to say.

“About me. I know. But he was right, Zac. I _was_ a shitty role model. I was a shitty _brother_.” I can feel myself getting choked up, and I look away to try to hide it. But a moment later I feel the bed shift, and an arm wrap around my shoulders. When I turn to face Zac, his eyes are misty.

“Tay, stop, please. You weren’t a shitty _anything_ , least of all brother. If anyone was, it was Ike. He was just so… closed-minded. Didn’t want to hear anything that didn’t fit his perfect little world-view. Still doesn’t,” Zac adds, looking down.

“Zac…” 

“You wanna know why I don’t talk to him much anymore?” Zac stares, waiting for an answer. I nod, and he searches my face, for what I don’t know. He takes a breath, starts to speak, stops, and then starts again.

“That friend of mine… the one I’ve been living with? His name is Vincent.”

It doesn’t take long for his meaning to sink in. my little brother is gay. 

“Oh, Zac…”


	5. Chapter 5

“H-how long have you known?” 

Zac shrugs, stares down at the joint hanging between his fingers. He puts it to his lips and lights it, inhaling deeply; when he exhales, I can practically see the weight lifting off his shoulders, just a little.

“Ike didn’t find out til a couple years ago,” he says quietly. “I’d heard him talk shit for years, so I knew how he’d take it if I ever told him. So I kept it in, didn’t tell him anything about who I was seeing or whatever. Not that it was ever his business anyway. But a couple years ago... it was Thanksgiving, I think. He went off on this rant, and I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

Zac pauses to take another hit, then passes the joint to me. My fingers are shaking as I take it; the smell, the taste, both take me back in time. Suddenly I’m nineteen again, a pipe in my trembling hand as my older brother - the guy who’s supposed to be my friend for life - calls me names that make my skin crawl.

_”I knew you were a fucking fag,” he says, spitting out the word as if it makes him physically ill to even say. “I don’t know how you even got it up for Natalie; probably just imagined it was Alex’s ass you were banging.” He pauses, looking like he might actually vomit. “I don’t care what fucked up shit you do in your personal time, but if you bring that shit anywhere near Zac… God only knows what else he’s learning from you, last thing we need is you turning him into a sissy like you.”_

“Tay?”

I’m snapped back to the present, and the first thing I see is Zac staring at me with a look of shock and concern. I realize my cheeks are wet, and I’m shaking so hard I can barely hold the joint. I take a hit and let the smoke fill my lungs, dulling the pain a little. 

“I’m okay,” I say, sniffling a little. “Just… god, Zac. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Tay.”

“Yes it is.” I shake my head, take another hit. “I should’ve said something. I should’ve been there for you. I…” I turn to look at him, and I can feel fresh tears welling up. Zac had to carry that weight on his shoulders all this time, all alone, with noone to talk to or support him. I’d tried to protect him, but ended up failing him even worse.

“Zac, I… I should’ve told you this years ago. I was just… ashamed, and afraid of what it would do to you, or the band… But, you shouldn’t have had to go through that alone.” I close my eyes, take a deep breath. “You’re _not_ alone. I… I’m…”

“I know,” he says softly, and I look up. There’s pain in his eyes, but guilt, too; I don’t understand at first, but as he slowly nods, I do. “Ike told me, back then. I didn’t believe him at first, but… well, I guess I could just kinda tell, you know? That he was telling the truth.”

“Isaac… told you what, exactly?” 

“That you were into guys. Didn’t put it that nicely, but you know him.” 

My hands are shaking again, but for a different reason. I knew Ike hated what I was, but to think he’d out me behind my back, to our younger brother no less… 

“That was when I knew I couldn’t trust him,” Zac says, and I can see the same anger in his eyes that I’m feeling. “So I just kept it to myself. I wish I hadn’t. I should’ve stood up for you, Tay. You didn’t deserve any of that crap.”

“Neither did you.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes, just passing the joint back and forth until it’s done. My mind is reeling with all the new information. Zac is gay… he knows I am too… Ike was the one to reveal my secret, against my will… Ike knows that same secret about Zac now… 

There’s a knock on the door, and we both jump.

“Pizza’s here,” Zac says, giving a laugh of relief. “I’ll get it.”

When Zac comes back, two pizza boxes and a two-litre of Dr. Pepper in hand, he’s smiling. The weight of our conversation isn’t completely gone, but it is easing. He sets our food down on the end of the bed and sits next to me, hip to hip. We both let out a sigh, and it’s like we’re exhaling the past, letting go of its toxicity.

“Thanks for telling me,” I say to him. He smiles and nods, puts a hand on my knee.

“I wanted to, a long time ago. I just…” He looks away and starts to pull his hand back, but I cover it with mine. He looks back, a little surprised, his cheeks turning pink.

“Things happened the way they happened. But I’m glad we know now.”

He stares at me, slowly grinning, then leans his head on my shoulder. I lean my head on his and give his hand a gentle squeeze. For all the wrongs I’ve done him, I feel like maybe I’ve made things just a little bit right.

\-----------

“Dude… what’s mine say?” Zac collapses into a fit of giggles as he tries to quote the movie we just finished. We’ve made our way through both pizzas, a few joints, and a six pack of beer Zac picked up earlier. I’m feeling surprisingly good, despite the heaviness of our earlier conversation. It almost feels like old times, but in the best way.

“Hey Tay…” Zac gets quiet for a second, but a grin still plays on his lips. “Remember that part when they’re in the car, and that model dude pulls up next to them?”

I swallow hard, but nod. I can’t imagine what made him think of that scene in particular, but when I look over, his cheeks are a little red.

“I know it was played up for laughs, but… still kinda hot,” he says with a smirk.

“Um… yeah, I guess…”

“I kinda used to have a thing for Ashton Kutcher,” Zac admits with a sheepish grin.

“He’s okay.”

“Yeah?” Zac turns on his side to face me, propping himself up on his elbow. “Who else do you like? Like, what’s your type?”

“I… um… I don’t know…” It’s been so long since I’ve actively looked for or at anyone in those terms, that I really don’t know what my ‘type’ is, or if I even have one. I want to give him some sort of an answer, though, so I try to piece together what I can. 

“Dark hair, I guess… not too skinny, not like chubby but not scrawny either… a little on the muscular side, but not, like, jacked... Um, a nice smile… Sorry I’m not much help.” I give him a shrug and a smile, and he nods slowly.

“It’s okay. That’s pretty much the kind of guys I go for too, maybe a little on the skinny side. And…” He stops and looks down for a second, biting his lip. When he looks up again it’s through his bangs, but I can tell he’s blushing again. “Blue eyes.”

There’s something about way he stared at me when he says the last part that makes me shiver. I feel like I remember… something, but I can’t remember what it is. I do recall one tendency I have though, intentional or not.

“Oh. That’s… that’s cool, I guess. I don’t really pay much attention to eye color, but I think I’ve always liked brown eyes more. Maybe it just reminds me of coffee,” I add with a chuckle that Zac shares. I look at him closer, and I’m reminded how his eyes have a hint of gold to them when the light hits him just right. Zac bites his lip and looks down at his hand between us, breaking the inexplicable hold his gaze has on me.

“So,” I say my voice cracking slightly. “What’s Vincent like?”

Zac smiles at that, and I can tell the guy I know nothing about means a lot to him. I feel a hint of irrational jealousy at that.

“He’s… great. He’s just kind of a book nerd, but it’s cute. He’s really been there for me, you know? Helped me deal with some stuff. He’s got a great sense of humor, but he’s smart, too. He…” Once again, Zac pauses to chew his lower lip. “He reminds me a lot of you,” he says quietly.

“That sounds really nice. I’m happy for you.”

“We’re not a couple,” Zac says with a shrug. “We tried it for a bit, but… well, we’re just better as friends. With benefits.” He smirks, and I don’t need to ask what kind of benefits. It’s an odd contrast, the way he says his friend/lover reminds him of me, and I’m not sure I like the reaction it causes, but I shrug the thought away before it can even finish forming.

“Well, either way. It must be nice, having someone like that. I… wouldn’t really know.”

“You’ve got friends, though, right?” Zac asks, his brow furrowed.

“I don’t really get out much,” I tell him, and hope that’s enough of an excuse, but of course it isn’t. He reaches over and wraps his hand around my wrist gently.

“Tay… You deserve to have someone, at least a friend. You don’t have anyone to talk to? What about the other teachers?”

“It’s not like people avoid me. If anything, it’s more the other way around.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. Zac’s face scrunches into an even greater expression of concern, and he scoots closer, until our legs are brushing.

“Tay… why?”

“I just… it’s for the best. I don’t need to complicate things. My life is simple, and I… I like it that way.” The lie stumbles off my tongue, and even I don’t believe it. Clearly Zac doesn’t either, the way he searches my face for a hint of the truth.

“I’m sorry.” Zac whispers the words so quietly that I wouldn’t know he’d said them if I hadn’t seen his lips move.

“Zac… you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Yeah, I do. I shouldn’t have dropped off the radar. Especially knowing what I knew, I shouldn’t have just let you go. I just… I was scared.”

“Of what?” I turn to face him fully, our bodies close enough for me to feel his heat. 

“Of what you’d think of me. Of what I’d do.”

“What do you mean?” The words are there, but the meaning behind them are lost on me. It’s obvious Zac had issues dealing with his sexuality, and I want to kill Isaac for making him feel even the slightest bit ashamed. But there’s something else to what Zac’s telling me, buried under his side-stepping and evasion. Even as he stares at me, I can see him putting his walls up to hide whatever it is he doesn’t want me to find.

“Nothing,” he sighs, rolling onto his back. He stares at the ceiling for a minute, then gets up with another sigh. “Be right back.”

“O-okay…” I watch as he heads into the bathroom, leaving the door partially open. I wish he would let me in, but after so long, I know I only have myself to blame. 

After the things we’ve revealed, I can’t help imagining what it would be like to be physical with someone again. And knowing what I know now about him, it’s hard not to picture him in similar situations. I look over, and I can see him leaning against the counter; I let my eyes wander over the curve of his back, the muscles in his arms. I find myself licking my lips, leaning over to get a better view. Once again I feel that strange twist in my stomach, but there’s no denying now what it is.

I want him.


	6. Chapter 6

The morning sun makes me squint as I drive down the road. Zac is in the passenger seat this time, leaning his head against the window. If his eyes weren’t open I’d swear he’d fallen back asleep. The radio is playing some oldies station, a slow, rambling guitar solo floating between us. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what I realized last night. It’d almost scared me sober, the revelation that I am, in fact, very much attracted to my own brother. 

When he’d come back from the bathroom I’d lied and told him I was tired; in truth I was wide awake, but I didn’t trust myself in that moment. Not that I would ever do anything, but I needed time to think. Staring at the ceiling all night offered no answers, and what little sleep I got left me no better off than when I’d closed my eyes. That was why I offered to take the first turn behind the wheel this morning, why I didn’t try too hard to wake him up. 

There has to be a rational explanation. I’ve been isolated for so long, craving any kind of intimacy or attraction. And here comes Zac, with his charming smile, eyes that I can’t seem to hide from, and a body more suited to an athlete than a painter. Maybe having gone so long without seeing him is messing with my fraternal instincts, my brain on some level forgetting that we’re related. It’ll pass; it has to. And until it does, as long as I don’t act on it, there shouldn’t be a problem.

It’s not a very proactive decision, but it’s better than nothing, and that’s enough to lighten my mood. 

“Woah… shit.” I notice a faint wisp of smoke coming from the hood of the jeep; a glance down at the dashboard shows the temp gauge dangerously close to the red. I immediately pull off the road and kill the engine.

“What’s up?” Zac asks, looking over. 

“I don’t know, but your car just started overheating. Smoking, too.”

“Oh… shit.” His brow creases, and he unclips his seatbelt and gets out of the car. I hop out too and follow him to the front. He pops the hood and a cloud of hot, white smoke billows out from the engine. Zac coughs a little as he waves it away, clipping the hood-stand in place. I know zero about cars, so it’s best if I just keep my mouth shut.

Zac pokes around for a few minutes, checking hoses and wires. I lean against the side of the car, looking back and forth down the empty stretch of road. I can’t remember when the last car I passed was, but I know it’s been over an hour. We got a fairly early start, but the heat is already hitting us hard. After just a few minutes out in the sun, I can feel a sheen of sweat forming on the back of my neck. I glance over at Zac and see he’s working up a sweat as well; I try to ignore the reaction the sight, as well as the sight of his arms fighting against the confines of his t-shirt sleeves, is causing.

“Fuck.” Zac slams the hood and wipes his hands on his jeans. “Okay. The good news is, I know what the problem is, and I know how to fix it.”

“And the bad news?”

“The bad news,” he sighs, “is I need to get to a parts store, and we’re in the middle of Bumfuck Egypt.”

“Oh… shit.” 

“Yeah…” Zac pulls out his phone and taps at it for a second, then cusses again. “And of course there’s no fucking service out here.” He grumbles and steps to the side of the road, staring back and forth in each direction. “How far past Springfield are we?”

“Um… hour and a half I think?” I haven’t paid much attention to the clock, but that sounds about right. “Want me to check the map?”

“Yeah, thanks.” He paces back and forth a bit and pulls his hair back into a ponytail. I get back into the car and pull our map from the glove box, spreading it out on the dashboard.

“Okay, there should be a town up ahead, not too much farther. Marshfield… looks decent-sized. Might have an Autozone or something?”

Zac sighs and gives a tire a half-hearted kick. “Yeah, okay. I’ll drive, scoot over.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Zac smiles, stretching as I move out of the driver’s seat. “My turn anyway, right? Anyway, we’ll just have to take it slow.”

“So,” I say as we start up again. “When’d you learn how to fix stuff? I don’t remember you being into stuff like that before.”

“My first car was kind of a p.o.s.” He laughs, shaking his head. “But it was cheap, and I wanted a beater car to learn on. I think I ended up replacing everything but the engine block by the time it finally crapped out on me.”

“That sounds like a nightmare… Why didn’t you just get a new car?”

“Never really thought about it,” he says with a shrug. He frowns a little, biting his lip. “I think… Okay, this is probably gonna sound weird. But after we… after the band split up, it just felt… I don’t know, wrong or something, to go blowing all the money we’d earned together. Even though I probably ended up spending way more on parts,” he adds with a sad laugh. 

“Zac,” I start, but he shakes his head.

“It’s no big deal. Just didn’t know how long I’d have to make it last, you know? And it’s not like I didn’t touch _any_ of it. Just at the time, felt like it was, I don’t know, too soon or something. Like spending the inheritance right after the funeral.” He frowns again, and I can’t help feeling a little sick at the analogy. It really was like a part of me had died; apparently he felt the same way.

“Anyway, I’ve never been afraid of getting my hands dirty,” he says with a smirk, nudging me. I know he’s probably talking about his painting, but something in his smile sends my thoughts to other places, and I look away. In a way it’s wonderful, like I’m starting to see the old Zac, the one who was all smiles and dirty jokes, before he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. But that familiar naughty smirk of his, coupled with my sudden attraction, leaves me feeling confused and shy, and more turned-on than a simple smile should.

We drive on for a bit, the radio still on the same oldies station. Zac turns it up and sings along with a Doors song I don’t remember the name of. He stares at the road ahead as he does, glancing down at the dash every now and then. When we were singing along with our demos yesterday, I hadn’t paid much attention to his voice. But now I’m really hearing it, noticing all the ways it’s changed with age. It’s mellow and just a little rough, though not as much as mine, I’m sure. He’s still an amazing singer, and I want to be jealous of him for it.

“Ride the snake, ride the snake…” Zac smirks at me as he sings, and it takes me a second to catch what he’s saying. I know it’s not meant as an innuendo, at least not a sexual one, but with what I know now about Zac, it’s hard not to read it that way. I can tell I’m blushing, partly because he cracks up mid-line.

“Sorry,” he says between giggles. 

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up…” I turn away, but I’m smiling despite my embarrassment.

“Aw but you’re so cute when you blush.”

I expect to see a teasing grin on his lips when I look back, and it’s there, but it doesn’t quite match the expression in his eyes. He looks almost… shy. 

“You do know what that line is about, don’t you?” he asks, and I nod.

“It’s a drug trip, right?”

“Yeah. I think it was peyote he was on, but just any bad trip. Gotta just ride it out til you get to the good part.”

Something about the casual smile as he says the words worries me.

“Zac, you’ve never done anything like that, have you?”

He doesn’t answer, just grips the wheel and darts his tongue out to wet his lips.

“Zac? I’m not gonna judge, I just want to know.”

“Tried a couple things. Nothing too major; peyote, shrooms, but that’s it. Never dropped acid or pcp or anything like that. And of course I’m not shooting up or…”

Or snorting. He doesn’t need to say it; the way he glances at me is enough.

“It’s been a while though. Haven’t touched anything other than weed in almost a year, and it’s not like I was using all that much to begin with. Just, you know, helping the creative process.” He smirks again, but this time I don’t find it as charming. I’m in no position to judge, though, after what we both know I’ve done.

“For the record,” I say, clearing my throat, “I haven’t touched… anything, in a long time.”

Zac nods and gives me a tiny smile. 

“That’s good. We were… I was worried about you.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. For everything, but especially that.” I frown at Zac’s sigh.

“Tay… please stop apologizing. Okay, you fucked up. But you know what? So did Ike, and so did I. We all fucked up. Breaking up the band was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to deal with, but it happened for a reason. So please, stop beating yourself up for it, or I swear to god I’m gonna make you walk back to Tulsa.” He gives me a smile so I know it’s an empty threat, but I really try to take his words to heart. 

Maybe it really is time to just let go of my guilt. It’s been a weight around my neck for so long, dragging every ounce of joy out of me until I feel like there’s nothing left. But sitting here with Zac, joking around like old times, is giving me hope. I still have some human emotion in me besides self-loathing after all. 

“Okay,” I say finally, letting out a breath.

“Okay?” Zac echoes, and I nod. “Okay. Great. So from now on, no more depressed Tay?”

“I’ll do my best.” 

“You better. Hey, look--marshfield, two miles. Almost there. See if we’ve got service?”

I pull out my phone and sure enough, the web browser opens up. I do a quick search and smile.

“We’re good to go; there’s an Autozone right off the highway.”

“Kick-ass. Don’t worry; as long as they’ve got the part, we should be back on our way in no time.”

I smile as Zac turns the radio up, this time belting out some Clapton. I join him this time, grinning. This is what this trip should be all about; not dwelling on the past, but reveling in the present. And I’m ready to live in the moment, especially if that moment has Zac by my side.


	7. Chapter 7

“What do you mean it’s out of stock?”

I look over from the display of novelty air fresheners, to the counter where Zac is staring at the cashier.

“Yeah, looks like we just sold the one we had yesterday,” the clerk says, looking from the computer screen to my brother. “I can see if another store in the area has it.”

“What’s up?” I ask, coming over. Zac groans, raking a hand through his hair.

“They’re all out. I can’t freaking believe this.”

“Okay, hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m not seeing it in stock anywhere nearby.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do then?”

“We can just go to a mechanic, can’t we?” I suggest, but Zac shakes his head.

“I’m not paying two hundred bucks for a guy to install a fifteen dollar part.” Zac taps his fingers on the counter, chewing his lip. “Are there any other parts stores in town?” he asks the clerk, who shakes his head.

“Just us, sorry. I can order it and have it here by tomorrow morning if that helps.”

“Fine,” Zac sighs, leaning his head back and rolling his eyes. “You’re not gonna hit me with a shipping cost, are you?”

“I’ll have to ask,” the clerk says, his shifty gaze implying the answer would normally be ‘yes’. I raise an eyebrow and look to see if Zac noticed, but he’s pacing back and forth, grumbling. It’s actually kind of cute, a thought I dismiss as soon as it pops into my head.

“Well that was a colossal waste of time,” Zac says as we leave the store a few minutes later.

“At least they can get it tomorrow, though.” 

“Yeah, better than being stuck here for a week. Ah, man… Sorry bout this.” Zac runs a hand through his hair again and leans against his jeep. We managed to limp it all the way to the parking lot, only having to stop a couple times to cool down. I don’t know much about cars, but I imagine it can’t be a good idea to push it much further.

“It’s fine. What’s a road trip without a few detours?” I smile at him, and he nods, putting his hair back again. “Well, guess we’d better look for a place to crash. Pretty sure I saw a motel sign just down the road. Up for a little walk?”

“Sure.” 

Zac makes sure the Jeep is locked up, and then we head off. I offer him a sip of my soda and he takes a long drink; my eyes are drawn to his neck as he swallows it down, then his tongue as he darts it out to lick his lips.

“Thanks,” he says, and the way he looks at me suggests he caught me staring. I remind myself of my decision to ignore the false attraction, but even objectively I can’t deny how warm his smile makes me feel. But then that could also be the heat of the day; the sun is high overhead at this point, and it doesn’t take long for both of us to break a sweat.

The motel Zac saw isn’t too far down the road, thankfully. The door chimes as we step into the office, which is blissfully cool. The place is a total tourist trap, with vintage road signs all over the walls. It’s kitschy in a way that I really shouldn’t love because of how silly it is, but that’s exactly why I do. I see Zac heading up to the counter, but put a hand on his arm.

“I got it,” I say. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah, you’ve had enough stress for one morning.” I pull out my wallet and turn to the little old lady behind the counter. “One room please. Just for tonight.”

“Alrighty, let’s see what we have for you… Oh, you’re in luck, we’ve got one room left. You boys on vacation?”

“Yeah, we’re doing Route 66 all the way to Chicago.” I smile and hand over my credit card.

“That’s nice; we used to get a whole mess of folks going that way, or the other. If you’re looking for someplace to eat, I’d suggest Bianchi’s. Very romantic.”

“Um… thanks.” I shift from one foot to the other as she swipes my card and hands it back, along with the slip for me to sign. 

“Alrighty, here’s your keys. Room 203, second floor, all the way to the end. Have a good evening.”

“Thanks. Hey Zac, we’re all set.” I turn to my brother, who’s looking through some local attraction pamphlets. He smiles and tucks a couple in his back pocket, then waves to the lady.

“Have a good night, boys,” she says, waving back. And then, just as I head out the door, I hear her quietly add, “Such a cute couple.”

I stumble a bit, but Zac's hand is on my back in an instant, steadying me. 

“You alright there?” he asks with a raised eyebrow and a crooked grin. I consider telling him what I heard, but decide against it.

“Yeah, just tripped over… something.”

He laughs and shakes his head. His hand is still on my back; he pulls it away slowly, almost reluctantly, but he's probably just expecting my clumsiness to trip me up again.

Maybe she hadn't even been talking about us, I rationalize. But when we get to our room and open the door, I know my first assumption was right.

There's only one bed. And there's only one reason she could've had for not mentioning it, or at least only one I can think of. She figured we’d only need one.

“Um, Tay?” Zac looks at me, biting his lip. I groan and lean against the doorway, covering my face with one hand.

“She thought we're a couple,” I tell him. I peek through my fingers to see his reaction.

“Oh.” His cheeks are a little pink but he's smiling,in an embarrassed way I refuse to call adorable. “So we just ask for a different room, no biggie.”

“There aren't any. She said this was the last one.”

“Oh.” Zac steps onto the room and looks around. It's nice enough, simple in design, a hand-painted landscape framed and hung over the bed. He ducks his head into the restroom, then looks back out. “Huh… cool. Jacuzzi tub.”

“I can see if they’ve got any roll-out beds.” I’m still hovering in the doorway, as if stepping inside will somehow trap me into the arrangement. But Zac shakes his head, leaning against the dresser.

“It’s fine, I can just take the floor.”

“You shouldn’t have to do that…” I take a breath and step into the room. If he’s fine with it, then there’s no reason why I shouldn’t be as well. It’s a dumb thing to get hung up on, really, and I chide myself for it. 

“Well, I mean,” he starts, looking down and shrugging. “It’s not like we’ve never shared a bed before. Not since we were kids, but still.”

“Um… I guess…” And just like that, my brain conjures images of us lying next to each other in the dark, so close I can feel the heat coming off his body. I shake my head in the hopes it’ll etch-a-sketch away the mental picture. 

“So, we good then?” Zac asks. 

“Yeah… yeah, it's fine. Do you want to go grab our stuff from the car?”

“Nah, it can wait,” he says, standing. “Let's go find someplace to eat, I'm starving.”

I let him pass me in the doorway, then take one more look at the room. Specifically the bed. That apparently we'll be sharing. I send up a prayer for strength, then lock up and follow Zac.

We’re lucky the town is relatively small, so everything we need is in walking distance. We pass a drug store and a bar before coming across a diner.

“We should check it out later,” Zac says, pointing back to the bar. It doesn’t look like a total dive, a little rough around the edges but in a way that’s more charming than off-putting.

“Sure. It's been awhile since I've gone out to a bar.”

Zac turns around, and gives me a look of almost-pity. I shrug it off and head for a booth.

We eat in relative silence, the emotional weight of the day exhausting. To make matters worse, I can't stop thinking about tonight, what it's going to be like sharing a bed with him. It was difficult enough being in the same room with him, knowing what I now know, and him knowing the same about me. If he knew the other sordid thoughts that’ve been running through my mind all day, he might make good on the threat of making me walk home.

He looks up at me and smiles, his cheeks pink.

“What're you thinking?” I ask, and he just smiles wider.

“Just about our plans for tonight. I get kinda… well, weird, when I drink.”

“Weird how?”

“Just like… I dunno, flirty I guess? Vincent says…” He stops to chuckle and shake his head, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of red. I hate to.admit how adorable it is, as well as a little sexy when he tucks back a bit of hair that came loose from his ponytail.

“Just figured I'd warn you now, seeing as you gotta sleep next to me tonight.”

“Oh. Um… thanks for the heads up?” It’s almost like he can read my thoughts, and is teasing me about them.

“Hey, at least I don't puke. Usually.”


End file.
